“Jesus, you actually went to Floristan, that shithole.” The woman abruptly shifted in her seat, disturbing the dog, and as the dog squirmed and yapped she stroked him. “Go on, what’s wrong?”

“I’m glad I went,” Sharkey said, leaning back. “I met some of his friends.”

“He hated that place.”

“He built his mother a house.”

“Don’t I know it! And she was such a bitch to him.”

The man patted her hand and said, “Let him finish, darling.”

“You see where someone comes from and you understand them a lot better,” Sharkey said.

“Where do you come from?”

“I was an army brat. My father wanted me to attend West Point. Go to ’Nam, like he did. I quit school, I quit everything and surfed. Your husband, Max—”

“Ex,” the man said sharply.

“Ex-husband—enlisted. That got him out of his hometown. He was in Vietnam at the worst time. He got medals. He used his military service to go to college. Started a company, a big company.”

“That’s where I come in, darling,” the woman said to the man beside her. “We had a beautiful home in Palo Alto—I did the decorating and landscaping. Max Integer was a short drive away. We had friends, we had a fabulous life.” She sighed. “For about six years. And then Max decided that what he really wanted was to be a surfer.”

“I get that,” Sharkey said.

“I don’t,” the woman said. “He threw everything away. The business, the house, the friends—me.”

“You could have gone with him to Hawaii.”

“Really, can you see me in Wicky Wacky Woo, sitting on a beach while Max is falling off a wave? Plus do you know what the sun does to your skin?”

“I guess so.”

“Look at yourself. No offense, but you haven’t spent much money on sunblock, my friend.”

The man laughed—too hard—and patted her hand. “Be kind, darling,” he said, but his gesture roused the dog, and when it began to yap furiously Sharkey blinked and was unable to reply to the sunblock remark.

“You know all about Max’s service record and his company,” the woman said, restraining the dog. “But do you know what he had in his luggage? Probably ten million dollars.”

Sharkey said, “When you think about it, it’s really not that much in Hawaii.”

“He sold his company to his employees for twenty-five—like a fool. He could have gotten ten times that from Symantec. He gave five to his alma mater, Santa Cruz. I got the other ten, and look what I did with it. This house, a great life, a wonderful guy.”